His Jealousy, Her Heart
by AnimeCookie93
Summary: Post-CoS. After Ed and Al left, Winry walked on her own two feet and moved on. But Michael's changed, and just in time for the arrival of our two favorite alchemists. Violence, language, and minor fluff ensues. EdxWin, one-sided WinxOC. Complete.
1. Introduction

_This is an old story I found in my harddrive, and I figured I wouldn't let it rot. I think you all will like it, considering it's got a lot of EdxWin, Detective-like situations, and fighting near the end. __I had to refrain from putting in a citrus-y ending, and decided it would sort of kill the plot… You'll see what I mean soon enough~_

**Disclaimer, from now till the end, **applies here, and will only appear here. Thank you!

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter One: **

Introduction

"Retard!" the word flew out of his mouth like vomit.

"Midget!" he spat, not caring that the two men stood at the same height.

"Pervert!" the quick retort resulted in a low growl from the older man.

"Why you...!"

Alphonse, age twenty-one, didn't want to admit to himself that four years had done nothing on his big brother's personality, but it was proving to be a true statement the further the two highly intelligent men talked. He shook his head in his hands – Why were they always so immature?

"Why do you always ask for leave, Edward?" Roy Mustang, whose age isn't necessarily important, asked his subordinate, "You sure as hell don't deserve it." Roy crossed his arms, stepping with confidence around his desk to stare into the boy's eyes.

Ed snarled. "Like hell I don't! I work my _ass_ off for you, what with the run-arounds and goose chases you're constantly _sending me on_!" the last three words were said a decibel louder than needed, making Roy flinch. "Not to mention..."

"Not to mention," Al cut in, standing two inches shorter than his brother and Roy, "We really need a vacation, General Mustang, sir," Al inserted a formality to ease the tension. His plan was successful, and the Flame General sat down in his chair. His arms uncrossed and crossed again uncomfortably, and his eyes narrowed in thought.

First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye walked in with a few folders, closing the door behind her and leaning against the wall. "You've been making them run rampant for two years, General. Don't you think a vacation is in order? Edward has caught and brought in many people who you were trying to bring into custody. Least we forget Mr. James Brown who is currently in Central Prison for murdering an innocent fourteen-year-old girl?"

Roy closed his eyes, remembering the horrid case; Lucy Jameson, 14, was found in the sewer lying face-down with her wrists tied behind her back. She had been strangled, but that was after she was raped. It was Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc who had been walking home with his date, the victim's oldest sister Jeanie Jameson, 22. It was a tragic way to end a date indeed.

Ed continued to glare down the General as he opened his eyes again. "Fullmetal."

"Sir." Ed cringed as the formality rolled off his tongue.

"How old are you?"

Ed quirked an eyebrow. "Twenty-two, Mustang. You _know_ that. You threw me that surprise par—"

"Get out of my office. You've caused me too much of a headache. I don't care how long you're gone, Major Elric, but you'd best give me a full detailed report when you return." Roy stood up from his chair and walked around Ed with a pressed frown and loud, impatient huffs. Hawkeye nodded a farewell and followed after her superior officer.

Al looked at his elder brother, quirking an eyebrow. "I wonder what that was about. He never _tells_ us to leave."

"Yeah . . ." Ed trailed off, turning around and starting toward the door to the Generals office. He walked past his cubicle next door and pulled on his mocha-colored cloak. "Why do you think he did that, Detective Elric?"

Al smirked, neatly folding his brother's uniform coat over his chair and turning off his light. "My gut says . . . that he thinks, or even knows, that something's wrong back home. Therefore, he didn't _want _us to go home."

Ed scoffed and turned to leave the office, Al following, and out the front doors of HQ.

* * *

_This is a crisp, detailed plotline. Okay, it was, until I ruined it by editing and putting it into a more recent style of writing. I hope you all liked the first chappy! Let me know if you want more! The chapters may be between this length and about 1200W, so please forgive me. I was lazy and had to shorten (because of many, many errors in speech, grammar, and run-ons)._

_~Cookie_


	2. Down the Road

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy the second chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter Two: **

_Down the Road_

Winry Rockbell stared out the window from her workbench in her ground-level workshop, wiping her sweaty forehead on her sleeve. She'd finished designing and building an auto-mail arm for her newest cash cow, and she was ready to show him what she could do.

"Here we are, Michael," Winry turned around, showing him the arm triumphantly. A young man looked up at her; he was tall with the same face and build of Edward, except he had dark hair and green eyes that, instead of reminding her of her dear Aunt Trisha Elric, reminded her of a pile of-

-well, it's not very appropriate.

"Thanks, baby girl, I knew I could count on you," he rose onto his feet, both flesh legs, and walked over to place a kiss on her cheek. She winced as he kissed a sore spot on her cheek. "Now, let me see . . ."

Winry showed him the arm again, looking it over. It was a much lighter steel than what she'd worked with earlier in her career, but it seemed to be more versatile and less prone to rusting. Plus, it didn't seem to bother Michael too much. It was made with a similar design to Ed's, with her signature carved on the wrist, exactly where Ed had his. Michael frowned.

"You had to make it _that_ way, didn't you?" Winry wasn't sure what was wrong with it, but apparently there was something. Michael brought his hand up, making her look up at him and move to stop him but was too late when his hand collided with her cheek hard enough to leave a dark red mark. He glared at her as she rose her hand up to touch the mark, and cringed as he stomped out and slammed the door to her workshop hard enough to make her scream. Tears reached her eyes.

_That's the second time he's hit me today. That's six times this week and it's not even over_ Winry moved toward the door, grasping the handle when she heard Den bark loudly. "Michael, can you see who's here?"

When silence was her reply, she frowned and walked out, stealing a peek from the window. "Well, I'll be damned . . ." she grabbed her fleece jacket and opened the door, allowing Den the first run toward two figures who made it over the hill and were talking nonsense, most likely. She went out on the porch and pulled something out of her back pocket, it glinting in the sunlight.

At first, her reaction was excited, a smile gracing her face as she recognized that smile that only belonged to the always-friendly and loving Alphonse Elric. But when she caught the gaze of his elder brother, her eyes turned evil and a passerby would swear they saw flames shoot up from the ground. She pulled her weapon up over her head, and threw with excellent precision toward the elder Elric's head.

The loud "Agh!" let her know she'd hit her target.

She broke into a run off of the porch and toward the figures.

* * *

"Brother!" Al watched his brother fall to the ground as his cranium was smacked by a silver wrench. He couldn't help but smile at the took, because that meant . . . "It's Winry!" he stood up, ignoring his brother's cries and pleas for help, and soon was on the ground himself, holding a giggling Winry Rockbell in his arms.

Winry picked her head up and flashed a smile at Al. "Welcome back, you morons!" she giggled, getting off of him and helping him stand. She stood straight and placed her hands on her hips, switching into a mode where Al could swear they went to the same Detective Camp he did. "And **you**!"

Ed opened an eye, nursing his throbbing head. "Yeah, _me_. The same 'me' who came back to see _you_," he started to get up, still holding his head with his cold auto-mail hand and holding himself up and steady with his left hand. "But maybe that was a bad . . . Mm?"

Winry had fallen on her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck before he could continue, and his cheeks became light pink. He took his hand away and rested it on the small of her back while his left moved around her shoulders. Winry sniffed. "Welcome back, you bone-head. I missed you both."

Ed's face felt like it was on fire. "Th-Thanks."

Before either of the brothers had enough time to even look at each other, a gruff voice was heard clearing its throat. Winry pulled back, getting on her feet and looked at the ground but spoke to the brothers. "I'm not sure if you guys remember, but this is . . ."

"Calloway. Michael," Al spoke, resting a single hand on his hip as Winry used to. Ed got up onto his feet and stared Michael down.

"Michael, huh?" Ed almost mistook Al for General Mustang. He stood in front of Michael, having to look up slightly. "It's been a while, hasn't it Calloway?"

"Edward Elric, is that you?" Michael had a deeper voice than Ed and Al, maybe closer to Roy's tone, and was a good 4 inches taller than Ed (and, since Ed was now a good 2 inches taller than Winry, making Al and Winry around the same height, that would make him a good 6 inches taller than Winry and Al). "Man, I haven't seen you since we were, like, ten, right?"

Ed snorted. "Nine."

Michael turned to Al next. "And look here; it's little Alphonse 'I-Still-Look-and-Sound-Five' Elric. How ya been, buddy?" He held out a hand at Al, who backed away and sent the man a disapproving frown. Michael retracted his hand and turned to look at Winry. "Let's go."

Michael turned around, Winry following shortly thereafter, but Al caught her hand and Ed caught her shoulder gently. "Win, what _is_ that dirt bag doing here?" Winry looked down and sent the brothers an apathetic look with a sapphire flash of despair.

"Michael is . . . is my boyfriend." She turned, shrugging away Ed's hand and tugging away from Al. The brothers looked at each other, Al with a worried expression and Ed with a concerned and somewhat angry one.

_You . . . didn't wait . . . for me?_

* * *

_So, that's how the second chapter works! We meet my absolute LEAST favorite character! (And one of my OC's who will most likely pop up again in another story, probably. Or at least something like him.) I know you guys don't like him – what's to like? – And I'm expecting you tell me in a REVIEW~ 3_

_Also, I never really liked the idea of Winry's boyfriend being a bossy dickhead, so I had to change it up so he at least had some sort of good intention of meeting the brothers. Hope it wasn't too bad?_

**Next Update: **Hell if I know. Whenever, I guess. *shrug*

_~Cookie_


	3. Reminisce

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy the third chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter Three: **

_Reminiscence_

_It had been a sunny day in Resembool, giving the Elric brothers the okay to visit the local market. Today was the day they were going to have their special race, each of them carrying a basket of food. The winner got to relax the upcoming weekend, possibly with Winry, while the loser had to help their mother with the dishes for the weekend._

_Al ran a few feet behind Ed, his breathing harsh and quick. It wasn't like he didn't like helping his mother, but that meant that he wouldn't be able to spend time with Winry much either. He frowned, pushing himself to run faster. _

"_Come on, Al! You couldn't beat a snail with no legs!" Ed called back at his brother, swinging his arms and barely breaking a sweat. He was always the most athletic in the family. "'Guess you'll have to help mom with the dishes __all__ weekend while __I__ play with Winry!" Al pushed himself until they got to their hill, and took advantage of the slope to step in larger strides. He tripped on a rock and rolled onto the designated 'Finish Line', his basket close to his chest._

_Instead of cheering, Al stayed on the ground, gasping for air. Ed keeled over and knelt beside him. The brothers walked toward their front door, and Ed put his hand on the knob and swung it in. "Hey, mom! Sorry we're late!" Ed gasped suddenly as he witnessed his mother collapsed on the ground._

"_Mom!" Ed cried, Al starting to choke up. "Mom!" _

_Ed and Al sat on Winry Rockbell's steps, their hands crossed over their laps. Winry walked out with a platter of juice, sitting down beside each Elric and handed them each a cup. "Is your mom going to be okay?"_

"Dunno," Ed said, taking a sip of the juice and staring off into the sunset. "We found her on the ground with her eyes closed and her forehead practically a waterfall of sweat." Before Ed continued, a boy walked up with his hands dug into his pockets.

"_Hello, are you new to Resembool?" Al asked the boy, who grinned in response._

"_Sure are. I'm Michael Calloway. And, who is this pretty girl?"_

_Winry blinked at the boy, and blushed in response. Ed, on the other hand, didn't find it as cute. Al looked at his older brother, knowing all too well that he had feelings for their childhood friend, and this Michael boy was going to provide some pretty big competition. Al stood up, straightening his T-shirt and shorts, and glared at Michael. _

_Just as Ed looked away with an angry, jealous scowl, Michael walked over to kiss Winry on the cheek. Well Al wasn't going to let his brother down, and he knocked the boy to the ground with his shoulder. Michael spat on the ground, just as the wind was knocked out of him._

"_Hey!" Michael gasped out, resting on his forearms, "What the hell was that for, you idiot?" Michael hurriedly got up, knowing that he had a bruise or two on his ribs, and Al wrinkled his nose at the boy. Michael brushed himself off and raised his fist at Al, an angry line plastered on his face. Al flinched, and Ed sprang into action._

_Before anyone knew it, Al was a few feet away, sitting on the ground. Ed was standing hunched over, nursing a bruised cheek, and Winry was starting to walk toward Michael with clenched fists at her sides. "Hey, that wasn't very-"_

_Michael ran off before Winry could finish her sentence, and she ran over to the eldest brother, Al doing the same. Al reached out to his brother. "Ed, let me see your cheek," but Ed turned away, a single tear rolling onto the pink mark and making it sting._

Ed remembered how that punch felt on his cheek that day; it was the last time he'd actually paid heed to pain. He was only 9 years old, barely old enough to understand the urges and feelings he now held and understood toward his childhood friend.

Ed, Al, Winry, and Michael were sitting in the Rockbell sitting area on the main floor of the house, Ed glaring at Michael and Al looking over Winry. Being a detective and having a minor in psychology, he could tell by her body language and the look in her deep blue eyes what she was feelings and what she needed to hear. Al moved over to the sofa and sat beside her, putting a hand on her arm comfortingly. Winry crossed her right arm over and touched his hand.

Michael picked up a magazine, one Ed brought for Winry. Something about a new auto-mail model he wanted her to try; she always said she'd wanted a challenge. Ed got up, rubbing his mouth with his flesh hand and walked into the kitchen. Winry patted Al's hand, sending him in after him, and relaxed onto the couch as Michael put a hand around her shoulders, roughly dragging her into him. She gruffly scowled at the coffee table.

When Al walked into the kitchen, Ed was glaring at the wall separating him from Michael and Winry. He recognized that look; Ed didn't like this guy. And, by the negative vibes he was receiving, neither did he. "Brother, what is it?"

"He's doing something. I'm not sure what, but he's got to have a reason for giving me this foul mood."

Al scoffed at his brother, sitting down across from him. "You can't give someone a foul mood, Edward. That's just stupid. But I do agree with you; I'm getting negative vibes around this guy."

Ed dragged his hand down his face. Though he didn't know much about psychological feelings and auras, he understood what it was his brother, Detective Alphonse Elric, was talking about.

"What do you propose we do, Major?" Al spoke in his work tone, and Ed smirked.

"Do you remember my first State Alchemist Assessment?" Al quirked a brow "Sometimes nicknamed 'Fullmetal v. Flame' . . .?"

Al's reaction made Ed chuckle. "Bro-_ther_!"

"But this time," Ed didn't give his brother much time to retort. "Michael won't be as lucky as Mustang."

* * *

_So, that's it for the third chapter. I liked the flashback, which had to be tweaked ever so much, and finally turned into that. ^^ I am proud, though. It's finally goooone and out of my harddrive. :D_

_Reviews loved, favorites and alerts are pretty sweet too! _

_~Cookie_


	4. Their Ritual, I

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy!

* * *

_

**Chapter Four: **

_Their Ritual, I_

Al knew exactly what was going on. After being a detective in the Investigations Division for two years, he was no stranger to the looks and overall aura of the jealous. Not to mention he and Ed used to fight over who would marry Winry when they were little. But now that Winry had moved on, there was much more to bargain with.

Ed glared at his auto-mail hand, clenching it into a fist as he got up and moved past Al to head back into the sitting area. Michael also had an auto-mail arm, but on the left and not the right like Ed. He snarled and sat down opposite Michael again.

"So," Al cut in, walking back to the kitchen with a platter of three glasses of water. "Winry, we've got some good news."

"You're staying long enough for Ed to get maintenance on his 'mail, and then you're leaving again. Al that's not what I call good, it's what a call normal." Winry closed her eyes, a sad smile gracing her face.

"No, that's not it," Ed said, looking at Winry kindly. "We're staying for longer than you'd think. And . . . I do that?" he felt like an ass as Winry and Al nodded in unison, and he frowned.

Winry looked up, this time at Al. "Well, if you're not here for that, then how long are you staying?" her voice sounded small, vulnerable. Al beamed as he threw his brother a glance and looked back at Michael, who snorted.

"As long as we want. And I guess that means as long as Michael's here."

Michael put a possessive arm around Winry's waist, and she faked loving it. Al frowned, and both teens heard a choke from Ed. Winry got up and walked to the kitchen, her hand brushing Ed's shoulder. He knew what that meant. He stood up and followed her, pushing his blond ponytail off of his shoulder.

He pushed through the kitchen door. "Alright, Win, what's up with that guy? And, why are you here alone?"

Winry's body tensed. That's right; she didn't bother telling them what happened. Her grandmother, the famous Pinako Rockbell, engineer and doctor, passed away in her sleep. Winry's dog whom she'd had when she was little, Den, ran away and was later found at the Train Station, laying down by the garden by the front entrance.

She ignored his first question. "Granny and Den died a while back. Granny in her sleep and," the irony of the situation made her back away, ramming her hip into the sink and holding in a cry, "Den was found at the train station down the road. An officer working there thought he was waiting for someone." Tears fell in thin streams, and Ed let out a strangled gasp.

"I'm . . . I'm so sorry."

"That's not even the worst part," Winry cut in, her voice raspy, wiping a tear from her face. "Michael. He –he changed," she rested her hand on her cheek, none to casually, and Ed walked over with a disgruntled snort and snatched her hand away, staring at the bruise forming. His eyes widened, and his jaw opened, but no words escaped.

Ed softened his grip on her hand and let it drop to her side. He moved his auto-mail hand to her cheek, the coolness making her bruise sting. Winry winced and hissed quietly. "He . . . hit you? Winry, he did that to you?" his voice rasped, and Winry wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. Ed dropped his hand and stepped toward her, pulling her hands and wrapping his arms around her. Winry buried her head on his shoulder.

"Ed?" Winry's quiet voice warmed his shoulder.

"Mm?"

"Let me braid you hair. Can I braid your hair?"

He blinked, and nodded. "Go for it."

* * *

_So… I guess that's it for the fourth installment. I'm really glad I'm getting a chance to put this up, because I kept putting it __off__ until just recently. _^_^ _Anyway… sorry for the short chapter!_

_Reviews loved, favorites and alerts are pretty sweet too! _

_~Cookie_


	5. Their Ritual, II

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

_Their Ritual, II_

"Let me braid your hair. Can I braid your hair?"

Ed blinked; when his hair was braided, back when he was 15, he and Winry used to sit in her room and talk, though most of the time against his will. They didn't get to very much, but Winry knew enough about Ed to guess what was going on. He nodded at his best friend. "Go for it."

Winry tugged him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She heard Al keep up conversation to keep Michael busy, but he saw Ed with his hand in Winry's and yelled into the hall, "Hey, pipsqueak! Get your hands off my girl, you hear?"

Ed snorted. "Mind your own damn business, Calloway!" Ed led the way, Winry trailing behind with a smile on her face. While he let her walk ahead of him, he continued down to Michael, "_And_ she was mine first!"

Ed ran up the stairs, picking Winry up and slamming them inside just as they heard a few incoherent bellows. Winry started laughing and launched onto her bed, putting a lock of hair behind her ear. But suddenly, her laughter died down and she stared at the floor.

"Ed, I . . . I don't know what to do anymore." Winry's voice sounded defeated, a tone Ed was not used to hearing, and he walked over to her, his arms crossed over his chest. "At first, he was one of the sweetest guys in Resembool, but then he started bringing his friends over, and then . . ." she trailed off, looking up at Ed and getting off of her bed, her hands in a praying position. "Ed, please help."

Ed blinked. "His friends? What did they do to you? God, they didn't _touch _you, did they? They have no idea who they messed with if they did . . ."

"No, no," Winry waved off, walking over to her closet and pulling her hair into a messy – sexy – bun, and opened her closet, pulling out a black leather outfit. Ed gasped as he began to put the image together in his head. Winry, bruised cheek and slender legs and arms, long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in a short black, leather dress and a pair of dark brown tights. Ed blinked, picking his hand up to cover his mouth in thought, also covering the rosy blush bubbling onto his cheeks. "They don't dare _touch_ me. But, Michael, he . . . he makes me dance. In this and other, ehm, _ensembles_."

Ed couldn't look at it anymore and turned with an agitated sigh. How could someone do this to his best friend? His _Winry_? He stomped toward the door, a set –determined – scowl on his face, and Winry leapt for his arm. "Let me go, Winry. That jerk has to pay for showing you off like that!"

"Ed, waitaminit!" Winry said, taking a slow, calming breath and looking at him. "He could easily take you, what with your arm having not had maintenance yet. If you want to help me . . ." her voice trailed off as she looked away, a sneaky smile on her face.

Ed looked at his arm and pulled it away from her hands. "Winry, you know I will. What can I do?" the way he said it was more like a command, and Winry smiled and threw the leather outfit on her bed.

"Simple; come with me tonight. Michael set up a gig at the Pub in town, and wants me to dance. You and Al come too."

Ed nodded firmly. "You can count on it, Win."

* * *

_Ah, the fifth installment… how short it was, nyeh? I'm sorry, loves. As I've previously said maybe a HUNDRED times: This is an old story, so the chapters are unbelievably shorter than my regular stories. Oh well; you guys love it/me anyway, right? _^^

_Reviews loved, favorites and alerts are pretty sweet too! _

_~Cookie_


	6. The Club

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Six:  
**The Club

For dinner that night, Winry cooked an old family recipe passed down her family for three generations – meatloaf. On the side was a side of freshly grown beets, and potatoes that were mashed with butter and pepper. Because Winry realized she didn't have the money to send Al to the market, she couldn't make beef stew, and this was Ed and Al's second favorite meal anyway. Neither of them minded either, as they finished their second helping.

Michael, however, wasn't having as fun a time as the boys were. Al, who had served the food in order to help out more and be by Winry more, had given him the crispier part of the meat loaf, and the soggier beets and he even nearly-liquefied the mashed potatoes. Winry couldn't help but smirk at the sickly-green color of Michael's face.

Michael took the last bite of beet and pushed himself away from the table to gain composure. "Alright, Win, it's time to go. Go get dressed up, nice and pretty-like."

Winry closed her eyes, pushing herself away from the table just as Al began to retort something smart – and that he'd been cooking up all through dinner – and walked away without a sound, heading up the stairs. Michael looked back at the brothers, who were averting their eyes and refraining from stabbing him with the butter knife in the butter stick. Ed had to look out the window, because looking at the knife would only awaken dark thoughts and memories.

"You boys wanna come tonight? Lots of pretty women, not to mention the music there is swingin'," Michael picked up their plates, a seemingly kind gesture, and Al gave him that same disapproving look. Michael shoved it off, walking into the kitchen.

Ed watched him and looked back at his brother, saying under his breath. "Showtime. You ready?"

"Am I ever, Brother?"

Ed chuckled as he and Al stood up to get ready themselves.

* * *

It was only a short walk from the Rockbell estate to town, where Michael and Al broke away from the group to discuss politics. It was Al's absolute pleasure to give his brother and childhood friend privacy, which is just what they needed right now.

Winry was dressed in an all black-leather ensemble, but this was different from the dress she showed Ed. It was a pair of black leather pants that clung to every inch of her legs, and her top was a black belly-shirt that was loose against her skin. Her belly was completely exposed, and the top was a halter, which left her back and shoulders also exposed. Thankfully, Ed had let her wear his old red cloak so she wouldn't freeze.

Now, if only he could do something about his flaming cheeks and racing heart.

Ed was wearing a new usual of a white button-up shirt with a brown vest on top, brown slacks, brown dress shoes, and a mocha colored trench coat. His long golden hair was tied back in a ponytail and he sported his usual determined frown. The silence was way too, well, quiet for him, but there wasn't anything he could think of saying.

Winry's voice broke the uncomfortable silence. "Ed, I don't want this. You know this isn't me . . . I went from a gear-head to some sort of p-prostitute." She cursed the day she'd ever have to use that word about herself. She bit her tongue from saying anything else.

"I miss the old gear-head. That's why I'm going to do whatever it takes to get her back. Trust me, okay?" Ed looked at her, determined, and she smiled at him, walking closer to him and nudging his shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me. I always have."

* * *

The lights of the Pub were blindingly bright and the music was unbearably loud. Michael and Winry had walked off together just as the foursome had entered the building, leaving Ed and Al to look around at the crowd Winry's be pleasing tonight.

They were all practically drooling over their drinks as if they were the juiciest steaks. Ed cringed as the music pierced his eardrum, nearly sending him into the pits of deafness. Al had already covered his ears. "Come on, Al. Let's sit by the bar."

Al nodded, following. "I'd never show up to Central again if they played this at Headquarters. Or even on the train."

Ed sat down, smirking. "I know. Mustang would lose the best Detective and the smartest alchemist in the entire Eastern sector."

Al chuckled, and the bartender walked over with a dirty rag slung over his shoulder. "What can I get you two boys tonight?" Ed looked at his brother, and suddenly the lights dimmed and the bartender walked away without their orders and slid them each a beer. Al stared at it.

"Don't be such a lightweight," Michael showed up behind them, drinking half of a beer. "It's just beer. Don't tell me you don't drink, Alphonse. It's good for a man, drink up!"

Al glared at the glass and pushed it away. "No thanks. I don't like to seem brain dead, considering judgment and the ability to see and think clearly are the first to go . . ."

Al was interrupted with Michael's finger pointing at the stage, pointing out a tall, blonde woman strut onto the stage, wearing all-black leather and tall black stilettos. Ed's jaw dropped to the floor as he saw those familiar, pained, deep blue eyes that went right to him.

_No . . ._

He stood up from the stool, turning right to Michael, who was staring and whooping along with the rest of the crowd. He sent him a death glare that seemed to make the two men stare at each other.

"Brother! That's . . ." Al was interrupted by Ed's voice, trapped in desperation and anger.

"Winry!"

* * *

_So… um… that was the sixth installment, and let me just say it just gets better from here. I. Shall. Not. Spoil. _XD

_This is a very, VERY short story. Like, there are two chapters left. I didn't mean for this to be a long story (Or even to be uploaded at all) but I just couldn't stop myself; it was taking up room, and I hadn't the heart to get rid of it. _

_Reviews loved, favorites and alerts are pretty sweet too! _

_~Cookie_


	7. The Plan Unfurls

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Seven:  
**_The Plan Unfurls_

Ed couldn't imagine how degrading and downright embarrassing it must've been for Winry to dance up there, like that: her hips swinging with the downbeat of the music. A man stepped from behind her and rubbing up her waist and raised her shirt to almost expose her breasts, and the crowd cheered. One was even so drunk that he fell to the floor with his hand in his pants.

"Her alias is Angel," Michael stated proudly, watching Winry dance around the stage. She had pushed the man off of her after letting out a squeak of disgust and suddenly be surrounded by a group of men practically wearing nothing but a loincloth. Ed spun around, discouraged that the darkness hid his flushed-with-anger cheeks.

"Don't act so damn proud! You're making her look like a free-for-all show!" Ed stomped his foot on the ground, gaining some attention himself. Al didn't even make a motion to stop his brother as the bartender got him a glass of soda. "This is hardly what I meant by 'heartfelt reunion', you ass! I can't let you throw her around like this!"

Al got up to stand beside his brother. "It's awfully inconsiderate of you to ignore her feelings and opinions about this whole thing. I mean, don't you have any respect for . . ." by the way Michael was staring at Winry, his question had already been answered. "You . . . you bastard!"

At this point, Winry was already covered up in Ed's old cloak and was at Al's side. She had never heard him swear, especially _that_ particular swear, and she grabbed his arm and started shaking it desperately. "Not here, please not here." Her pleas rewarded her with a gentle jerk and a one-way ticket into Michael's chest. _Not exactly where I wanted to be, but . . ._

Michael pushed her aside, not paying heed to the cry that escaped Winry as she hit the corner of a table. Al walked right over and helped nurse her aching hip as Ed got right into his enemy's face. "You're done hurting her. Get out of my face, Calloway."

Ed was rewarded with a harder shove, sending him into the barstool and falling backwards. He growled, leaping onto his feet and taking off his jacket and brown vest, revealing his white button-up. "Have it your way." He leapt right at him, punching him with his left fist on the mouth. He heard a devastating crunch and discovered he had blood on his knuckles. He swung his fist down, shaking off the blood onto the floor.

Winry suddenly reacted. "Michael! What the hell are you doing? You have no right to hurt Ed like this!" she looked down at herself and pulled the cloak tighter around her body. Michael frowned and pushed her away, not caring that this time he'd applied so much force that she fell onto the table and made it break into pieces, splinters going into her bear back and belly. She cried out again, picking herself up and tossing a piece of wood at the base of his shoulders and hitting him hard enough to send him colliding right into Ed's right fist.

"Don't you _ever_ touch her again," Ed ground out through clenched teeth, and he swung his foot out and tripped him, being taken down himself when Michael grabbed his wrist. Ed didn't take a second to spare when he brought his auto-mail fist into Michael's face. "And if I hear that you do, I'll see to it that you don't see the sunrise, you ungrateful bastard!"

Al looked at his brother; never had he seen Ed fight quite this rashly, and he went to Winry to check on her. He tore a piece of the cloak and was careful to wipe the blood from just under her belly button. She winced. "Edward!"

He pulled back, getting onto his knees and slowly raising himself up. He limped over to her and examined her, putting his hand on her cheek and moving her face around gently. "Winry. Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?"

"Ed, behind you!" Al called out, and Michael came up from behind Ed and got him into a choke hold. Ed gasped for air, then regained control by elbowing Michael hard in the gut with his steel elbow. Michael fell back on his knee and spat to the side.

"Ed!" Winry called out, and Ed looked at her again. "If you lose, I'll kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a _very_ long time!" Ed nodded, gulping and nodding in her direction, and picked Michael up by the collar of his shirt, shoving him against the opposite wall.

Michael's right hand went into his pocket. "Feh. I didn't know the pipsqueak had it in him to put up such a fight. However, there's one flaw to your fighting style, Edward Elric."

Ed glared. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Michael smirked and pulled his foot back to kick Ed in the left shin, making his auto-mail leg make a weird sound before he came crashing down onto a blade. Ed's eyes widened, and he coughed up blood. Michael smirked as Ed fell to the ground, hearing Winry cry out, but frowned when another few figures slammed through the doors with guns pointed at him.

"Michael James Calloway," a man stepped from behind the group in the doorway. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and a scowl painted on his face. "I surely hope you realized what it was you just did. Because now you've given yourself a second charge; for attempted homicide of one of my valued Alchemists."

"What was the first charge?" Michael spat angrily, and Winry scowled with tears making her eyes shine.

"The first charge," Al cut in, pointing an accusing finger at the man with flame spewing from his mouth, "is domestic violence. You are being charged for hitting our best friend, Winry Amelia Rockbell, and for . . ."

A husky, pained voice came from behind them. ". . . stabbing me right in the gut."

Michael and Winry looked and saw Ed, holding a blood-stained spot in the middle of his stomach. Winry smiled in relief, and ran from Al's grasp and at Ed, helping him stand. Tears shone in her eyes. "Oh, Ed . . ."

Suddenly, everything in Ed's world went black, and he collapsed on the ground with a 'Thud!'.

"_Edward!_"

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… _Yeah. There ya go. There's your actiony-type fix. And seventh and second-to-last chapter._

_Did I mention before that I'd had to rewrite it, and some stuff that seemed unimportant had to be taken out? Yeah, I sort of hate that part… there was a lot of better stuff before. Now it's… I dunno, it's not __bad__ it's just not what I expected… I don't know. _

_Reviews loved, favorites and alerts are pretty sweet too! _

_~Cookie_


	8. Dream Come True

_Thanks for the feedback! (Reviews, Favorites, Alerts!)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Eight:  
**_Dream Come True_

Ed woke up to a warm sensation on his stomach, where his stab wound was. The pain went through him like electricity, and he leapt straight up, biting back a cry of pain. A hand touched his chest, stopping him from sitting up too far, and he opened his eyes fully to look right into Winry's eyes.

Mascara had been running down her face from the previous night, and she had made no effort to wipe it away. She hiccupped and smiled warmly at him. "Ed, I . . . Thank god you're alright." She leaned in to hug him gently, and he tensed at first, and then wrapped an arm around her waist.

"'Course I'm okay," he said confidently, backing away as she released him. He leaned his head on the backboard. Winry placed a cool cloth on his forehead, and started to wrap his wound in gauze wrap. He winced, a bead of sweat dripping from his chin and onto the top of her hand. She looked up and flipped the cloth over, dabbing his face. He smiled at her. "How're your wounds?"

"Nothing sleep won't fix," she said, smiling at him. "A few puncture wounds from splinters, but I had Al get those out for me. My back's a little sore, but all I need is some rest. Let's worry about you now, okay?" Ed sighed through his nose, trying his hardest not to show how much it hurt that she applied pressure around the wound to wrap his stomach up. When she finished, having wrapped it twice around just in case, she took the cloth off of his head and brushed a few stray hairs from his face. "All done."

Ed opened his eyes and looked at her with a warm, loving smile. He sat up straight and pulled her into an embrace that made her cheeks burn against his bare shoulder. He held her tightly to his chest, and felt her hands on his shoulders, keeping herself pressed to his hard body. She nestled into his shoulder and broke down, Ed consoling her any way he could.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Easy, Winry. You'll exhaust yourself if you cry hard like that." He lifted her up and looked right into her eyes. "Winry, I . . . I'm sorry for everything. For leaving you alone, for not calling, for not writing . . . for almost not coming back to tell you that I . . ." his cheeks caught fire and were the color of a tomato, but he couldn't push himself to say anything else on the subject, and he pulled her to himself again, this time hissing as he made her accidentally poke his wound with her elbow.

Winry's eyes softened and she pulled away to rest her forehead on his. "Ed, please. I wasn't very good with watching your backs disappear before my eyes. You know that; that's the last time I saw my parents, and they were killed. I didn't know if you'd be alive the last time I saw you or if you'd be in a casket." She started crying again, but this time instead of being pulled into an embrace, she felt a pair of lips on hers.

Winry's eyes had immediately closed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers playing in his hair that was loose at his shoulders. Ed let out a quiet moan and pulled her further into him. He wrapped both of his arms around her and put his left hand on the back of her head. They broke for air, and Ed lingered on her bottom lip for a second longer. He pulled away and embraced her.

"I love you, Edward," Winry's voice was slick with worry, as if he'd reject her.

All he said was "I know, Win."

He pulled her into a longer, hungrier, kiss, and Winry knew that's all she needed as her answer. And, by the way he kissed her, it was quite obvious what his feelings for her were. She let out a quiet moan, and soon she was in his lap kissing him with fervor.

_I never would've realized, _Ed thought as he pulled her closer and ignored the sting by his stomach, _how much she'd meant to me if I'd stayed in Central._

**-x-x-**

Al and Roy sat in the living room, Al staring out the window and Roy sipping some tea on the opposite couch. Al couldn't help but notice the triumphant smile on Roy's face as he sipped his tea. "You knew the whole time, didn't you, sir?"

Roy put his cup down and quirked an eyebrow. "Who, me? Al, no one could've been able to see this coming. Unless they were dealing with a forgotten case from two years back, that is."

Al's eyes widened in shock, and he took out his glasses to clean them against his T-shirt. "Calloway is a criminal? What else had he done? I hadn't heard of this case, and I remember every single case I deal with. Surely you can't be thinking of someone else?"

"I never forget, Alphonse," Roy said sternly, crossing one leg over the other. "You might be my best detective, but I have one of the best memories in the Military after being in it since I was sixteen. This was a case we'd had before you had come home. His name back then wasn't Calloway, but instead Cameron. He must've taken his mother's name to cover up his shadowed life. I had a suspicion and was aware that you'd had yours too upon seeing my mood a few days ago."

Al nodded, and realized it was way too quiet upstairs. "I should probably go make sure they haven't killed each other yet. This is the longest they've been together in a while, they're probably at each other's throats by now . . ."

"Let them be, Detective," said Roy with a smile on his face. He took another sip of tea, and Al quirked an eyebrow at him, then sat back down on the opposite couch. "They might very well be chewing each other out, but that doesn't mean there should be a third target. Let them be alone for a while. God knows they need it."

Al sighed and knew he was right, and picked up a newspaper that was sitting on the coffee table.

_He's right. They might fight, but that's their way of saying they care enough to say the other was wrong. Sure enough, they'll realize just how much the other matters to them and cares for them._

Al took a second, then a smile broke onto his face as he pulled the paper further up so his smile was hidden from Roy.

_Wouldn't that be a dream come true?_

* * *

_And that concludes this really, painfully long story. _

_Reviews loved and favorites are, too! (Oh, and I'm not continuing this; I will welcome flames, just don't go too far, BUAHAHA)_

_~Cookie_


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